síng mє tσ slєєp
by invisiblemirage
Summary: Something seized Melanie, yanking her into the water. She screamed as she fell, the cold water quickly soaking through her denim shorts. Waist deep in the Cove, every sharp rock colliding against her skin felt like biting teeth. Maybe they were.
1. The Calm

Black water glimmered, the moonlight reflecting off of the crests of the gentle waves. The stars had not come out to play. Clouds kept them in place, hidden in the night sky. The little salt water cove was nearly silent. An eerie peace had settled over the gateway to the sea.

A shark's fin rose in the water, then dipped once more beneath the surface.

"Did you see that?" Melanie exclaimed. "There's a shark. I'm not going swimming with you."

Her boyfriend, Tank, pulled on her arm. He was already knee deep in the cove. Little ripples moved out from his calves. "I didn't see anything. Come on!"

"Tank, there's a shark in the cove. I'm not going in." Melanie backed her toes out of the water, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not happening."

"I'm sure you just saw a dolphin or something." Tank protested. He splashed Melanie, and she yelped. "Don't be so afraid."

"This far north?" she asked, skeptically, turning around. "I'm going back to the car."

Something seized her, yanking her into the water. She screamed as she fell, the cold water quickly soaking through her denim shorts. Waist deep in the water, every sharp rock colliding against her skin felt like the biting teeth of the shark. "You jerk!" Melanie shoved Tank back. He fell beneath the surface only to come up sputtering and laughing.

"You liked it!" he grinned. "You look cute. Come on, let's go swimming."

"I'm going home."

"Can't without my keys."

His pants were on the bench on the sand. With a satisfied smirk, Melanie reached into his pockets, extracting the jingling keys. "Got 'em. Have a nice walk home." She gave a little wave before taking his pants with her.

That would teach him.

As Melanie vanished, Tank gritted his teeth. There would be a fight tomorrow. She'd have to realize what she did was wrong. He was prepared to show her the error of her ways. He knew how to make her understand. All he'd wanted was a bit of fun. There was nothing wrong with that, now, was there?

Launching himself farther into the chilly water, Tank floated on his back. Staring up at the blank sky, he found himself relaxing. He could hear music drifting on the breeze. Someone was playing a very beautifully sung song.

Some_thing _grasped his ankle. Sharp, thin spikes dug into his skin. Dragged beneath the surface before he could even scream, Tank vanished without a trace.

Above water, all was calm and still.


	2. Open Road

Dean never tired of the way his baby sounded as her engine hummed on the open highway. Accompanied by classic rock on the radio, it was the most beautiful sound he swore he would ever hear. The windows were rolled down, letting the rush of the wind whip throughout the interior. With one hand on the wheel, and one lazily hooked on the door, Dean was feeling good.

"Anything good?" He glanced away from the road for a moment. His brother, Sam, was pouring over a newspaper he had picked up at the last gas station. Sam's face was twisted into an expression of deep thought as he flipped the page, scanning yet another article.

"Not really," he admitted, folding up the paper. "An old lady died warm in her bed, surrounded by family. One old guy defended himself against a robber who had tried to enter his home and hurt his family. Oh, and there was a shark attack off the coast of New Hampshire."

"New Hampshire?" Dean repeated, passing a car that was going a little too slow for his liking. He eased himself back into his lane, the red minivan long gone in his rearview mirror.

"Yeah. A girl and her boyfriend were swimming when they got into a fight. She went home, and his bones washed up the next day. Little weird, actually."

"Just the bones?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

Dean ran over his knowledge of sharks. The things he didn't know outweighed what he did know, but he was thinking there was definitely something abnormal about that. "Thought the bones stayed in the shark's belly or something. That's how scientists can tell what they ate, right?"

Sam stared. "Something like that."

"Want to check it out?"

"Could be a job," Sam shrugged. "Could be nothing, though."

"Did they say what kind of shark it was?"

"No. The girl only saw the fin. There was no one else around."

"Anyone else seen this thing?"

Sam checked the paper, scanning over the article. "Not that it says."

"But the girl-"

"Melanie."

"Melanie definitely says she saw something, right?"

"Right."

"So it could be just a shark." Dean leaned back in his seat. He turned up the radio, using the song to block out everything else so he could think. "Somethin's fishy."

"What?"

"I said, 'something's fishy!'" Dean yelled over the music. Sam turned it back down. He gave his brother a reproachful look.

"Wanna check it out?"

"Eh, why not? We're only a few hours away. Let's go."

Dean pressed on the gas pedal, turning the music back up as he did. Bobbing to the AC/DC song, he sang every word as he followed the signs for New Hampshire.

Sam read the article, then re-read it yet again, looking for anything that could be a hint. The shark had taken the boy, cleaned his flesh, and left the bones to wash up. The little cove was protected by a jut of land, then it lead to open sea.

Bones didn't usually float. They sank down to the very bottom, where they remained until they were hauled up or left for eternity. Whatever had happened to Tank Johnson, Sam was sure it wasn't a shark.

Sam was starting to believe Tank had been murdered.


	3. Agent Charles, Agent Derek

"But, I've already talked to the police." Melanie frowned, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. The two very tall men in suits looked back at her kindly. The taller one looked almost sorry for her. He must have been a bit newer on the force.

"Agent Derek and I are just trying to make sense of things," the tall one said, his voice kind and gentle. His hair was rather long for an FBI agent, Melanie decided. He continued, "You said your boyfriend was eaten by a shark… did he say anything strange before he died?"

"No," she shook her head. Her short brown hair was pushed back by French-tipped nails as she moved it out of her face. "We went out for a movie, then he wanted to go swimming in the Cove. I saw a shark fin, and he tried to force me to get in the water, so I left. That's it."

"So, what I'm hearing is, you left him in the water with a shark…"Dean suggested. He was making some serious snap judgments regarding Melanie's sanity. Though, he couldn't say he'd do anything too differently if a girl tried to feed him to a shark.

"No! No!" Melanie's eyes grew wide. She took a deep breath. "I know it sounds bad. I thought if I left, he would follow me. I even took his jeans." Her head fell into her hands as she moaned. "I figured he'd be right behind me. I didn't think he'd stay in the water. I even sat in the car for a good ten minutes, thinking he was going to show up."

"Did you go back there?" Sam asked, his brow arched curiously.

Melanie nodded. "When twenty minutes passed, I went back. He was gone. I called the police. In the morning, they found his bones." Fresh tears trickled down her face. She brushed them away quickly, trying to be strong.

"Now, Melanie, if you don't mind my asking," Dean began. Sam gave him a wary look, warning him not to push too hard. "Were you and Tank a happy couple?"

Melanie looked up at Dean, her expression cross. A guarded look appeared in her eyes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dean shrugged. "Just curious."

"We were …" she said. "I mean, we had our fights, but who doesn't?"

"Of course," Sam chimed in.

Melanie reached for her mug of strawberry tea, causing her shirt to ride up. A green blotch peeked over the edge of her jeans, just above her hipbone. She straightened up, one hand wrapped around the handle of her mug as the other rushed to fix her shirt. The slightest tremor ran over her face for the thinnest of moments.

She continued. "We were great. He was a great boyfriend." She suddenly found that she could not meet Dean's eyes, nor Sam's. "He was a little… tough, though."

"I see," Sam said gingerly, not wanting to press the issue. "Do you know if he had any enemies? Anyone who wanted him dead?"

That same flare flashed in Melanie's tired eyes. "What do you mean? You're not suggesting…"

"It's not impossible." Dean said. "We're not at liberty to discuss the issue, but we'd really appreciate it if you could help us out."

"Well," Melanie put her mug back down on the glass table top. "He had told me a few of his exes might have it out for him, but he never mentioned why. There was something about a broken off engagement, but I knew the girl, and she doesn't have an aggressive bone in her body."

"May we have her name?" Sam inquired. His pen was poised above the pad of paper in his hands.

"Lila Scott." Melanie supplied. "She lives just across town, on Three Oaks Street. Number forty five." She offered a small smile. "Please don't say I told you. You know, just in case. She doesn't really like me, either. Not anymore, anyway."

"No problem." Sam promised. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Not at all. It's down the hall, on the left." Melanie pointed down the white hallway, and Sam followed her lead. Everything in her house was painted a crisp, clean white. Sam had to wonder how she didn't go snowblind from looking at these bright walls all of the time.

Dean waited until Sam was gone before he asked his next question. "Was Tank afraid of sharks?"

"No." Melanie answered. "He liked them. He said he liked their ferocity. 'They could kill anything with ease.'" She quoted.

"So, he really had a thing for them, huh?"

Melanie nodded.

"Irony." Dean shook his head. "Interesting."

He continued to make small talk with her, asking the occasional question, while he waited for Sam to return. He doubted Melanie had murdered her boyfriend. Everything she said checked out. She seemed like a sweet enough girl. She had left him with the shark, or whatever was in that cove, but he was inclined to believe she hadn't done it to kill him.

"If I hadn't left him, he might still be alive." She cried. "It's my fault."

Dean put a comforting hand on her arm. "Hey, Melanie, there's nothing you could have done. Even if you had been there, sharks are quick. If that's what got him, he would have been gone before you could have even reached him."

"I wish I had stayed. I could have at least tried… What do you think happened?" she asked, her sad gaze piercing his.

Before Dean could come up with something, Sam reappeared in the room. He gave a slight nod to Dean, who asked, "Ready to go, Agent Charles?"

"Yeah, we're about done." Dean stood up, offering his hand to Melanie. "My condolences. Oh, do you mind if I ask you one more thing? Tank. Was that his real name?"

Melanie stared. "…Yes." She answered.

Dean gave her a tight smile. "Just curious. Have a nice day, Melanie."

Sam wished her a nice day as well as she showed them out. When they were back in the Impala, Dean let out a whistle. "Did you see that bruise on her?"

"Yeah." Sam said flatly. "I don't think they were as happy as she wanted us to believe."

"You think she killed him?"

"No. At least, not directly."

The engine came to life. Dean turned onto the street, then took a left onto the main road. "Did you find anything in her house?"

"No. The place was clean. No altars, no hoodoo, no sign of witchcraft-"

"Good!" Dean interrupted, happy relief flooding over him. "I hate witches."

"She was fine. Unless I missed something, she's got no connection with any of that stuff." Sam's quick but expert search had yielded nothing but a few hidden journals and a concert ticket kept under her mattress. Melanie's house didn't have so much as a horror movie in it. She was a sweet, naive girl who had happened to fall for the wrong kind of guy. A quick glance at the journal had revealed just as much about Tank's character as her bruise had.

A visit to Lila was short, but teeming with information.

"We're Agent Charles and Agent Derek," Dean said, motioning to himself and Sam respectively. "We just want to ask you a few questions about Tank Johnson." Once again, their badges were out, confirming their identity.

A slight, creasing frown came over Lila's pretty face, but she nodded, opening the door the rest of the way to let them in. "Okay. I only have a few minutes. I'm supposed to have lunch with my mother. Let me let her know I'm going to be a little late, okay?"

"Take your time." Sam smiled.

Her blonde hair framed her face nicely as bits and pieces fell from her messy bun. Her fingers flew over her phone quickly before she pocketed the small, silver device. "Okay, shoot."

"How well did you know the deceased?" Dean asked, taking charge of the investigation.

"'The deceased.'" She wrinkled her nose. "You make him sound like he wasn't even a person. We were engaged, about a year ago."

"Who broke it off?" Sam asked.

"I…" she looked away for a moment, then back at Sam. Something about the calmness of his eyes helped to put her at ease. "I did. He was … well, he was abusive. I couldn't marry him." Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "It wasn't so much physical, more verbal, but there were times…" she bit her lip. "He could usually manipulate it to look like an accident, or something. I was really stupid. Of course, he told me I was, so I believed him."

"Why did you stay with him?" Dean's eyes were melting with compassion. He was thinking of a thousand good, colorful names to describe that piece of –

Lila sighed. "I wanted to break it off sooner, but he always found a way to remind me why I should stay. I was a little afraid of him, actually."

"I understand." Sam said.

"He's dating an old friend of mine, now. Melanie Tripp. I tried to warn her, but then she stopped talking to me. I think- I think he said something." Lila's eyes flickered as memories surfaced. "He likes when his girlfriends don't have any other people to lean on. I think he made sure she wouldn't take anything I said seriously."

"Any idea what he might have said?" Dean asked.

"Who knows? All I could do was try to warn her. After that, everything changed. She wouldn't let me close to her. Stopped answering calls, texts… I gave up. I didn't want to seem like a stalker."

Dean nodded. "Any idea if anyone might want him dead?"

Lila could only shrug. "He wasn't a good guy. I'm sure he had enemies. Maybe? But honestly, I don't really know."

"Well, thank you, Lila. You've been very helpful." Sam smiled warmly at her. "We'll be on our way, now. Have a nice lunch with your mother."

"Thanks." She smiled.

"We'll be in touch."


	4. The Cove

"So, what are we dealing with, here?" Sam asked. He dumped his bag onto the floor, plopping onto the motel bed without bothering to turn down the comforter. All motels had the same, weary scent of tired travelers. It was a smell Sam had come to associate with being home after spending so much of his life in one motel or another.

"I dunno, Sam, but I'm betting you it wasn't a shark that ended this guy's life." Dean was sitting on the corner of his bed, thinking. "Want to watch Jaws and call it a day?"

"We have work to do." Already on his laptop, Sam was researching. He had four tabs open on sharks, two on the outcomes of abusive relationships, and one listing local restaurants that delivered. "Pizza?"

"We had pizza last night. I'm thinkin' Chinese." Dean grinned.

"Chinese it is, then." Sam relented.

An hour and a carton of sweet and sour chicken later, Sam finally admitted his thoughts to his brother. "I don't know exactly what to look for. It could be anything. Shark, vengeful ex… I'm thinking those two girls aren't the only ones he's screwed with."

"Tell me about it." Dean said with a mouth full of egg roll. He swallowed. "Did you see that bruise on her hip?"

"Yeah." Sam replied. "Looks like it hurt."

"You think he did that?"

"No doubt. He shoved her against the door when she wanted to go home early one night. She was too tired for sex, so he pushed her around a little bit until she relented. Doorknob got the better of her."

Dean paused, his fork hovering over chicken fried rice. "How do you know that?"

"Found her journal."

"Oh."

"I was looking for summoning rituals, or anything that could link her to the killing. She was clean."

Dean thought it over. "I don't know. Maybe it was just a freak thing. Small shark, eats the meat, leaves the bones. Maybe he got bit, and hauled himself to the sand. The shark follows him and finishes the job, so then he died near the shallows, and the bones didn't wash up at all."

Sam said, "Yeah, but do you really believe that? How many 'coincidences' have you encountered, Dean?"

"None."

"Exactly."

Dean swallowed his last bite of dinner. Reaching for his favorite leather jacket, he nodded to Sam. "C'mon. Let's go scope out the Cove."

Waiting for them in hypnotic moonlight, the Cove was just as quiet as it had been four nights ago. The quiet waves lapped the sand. The trees danced softly in the breeze. The moon shone brightly, casting shadows across the water. The sight was extraordinary.

"It's been cleared out." Sam complained, emptying sand out of his shoe for the third time. "Why are we here?"

"Just want to get a feel for the place, that's all. Could be a spirit." Dean's homemade EMF cast doubts on that guess. He wasn't getting any readings, but he kept searching anyway. He glanced up every now and again, scoping out his surroundings. "See anything?"

"Nope." Sam grunted.

"Keep looking." Dean scanned the beach again. Sam was right. The body was gone, as Dean knew it would be. The sand showed plenty of footprints but no sign of struggle. If there had been, the officers and swarms of people who would have come looking for the shark would have destroyed it by now. Still, Dean picked his way over the sand carefully, making sure he missed nothing.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he was hoping for a sign, something to tell him he wasn't all wrong on this job. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite seem to grasp it. He needed a lead, a good, strong lead. Something he could follow.

But, it seemed this beach was unwilling to surrender its secrets.

Even on this seemingly peaceful night, Dean could feel the spooky atmosphere of the place. On the surface, it looked like a nice beach hideout, a mysterious place on the cove he could bring a girl and have a good time. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more going on here than he could figure out. Yet. But, it would sure help if he could rid himself of the feeling that he was being watched.

"Nothing." Dean concluded the next morning. "We did everything we could think of. There was nothing going on over there at all." He ran a hand through his short, brown hair, trying to piece it together.

"We didn't dive in."

"With good reason! If there's a man eating shark in that water, Sam, do you want to end up his chow?" Dean asked. Sam was quiet. "I didn't think so. What was the night he died like?"

"It was calm. Quiet. No rain. Not much wind, either. Uh, there was the first hint of the moon since the new moon had just ended. No stars, though. Madeline said it was kind of eerie, actually." Sam described, reaching back into his memory.

"Okay. Okay." Dean said, pacing around the motel room. "So, what are we missing?"

"Well, Sheriff, we've got the body, we're just missing a murderer and a motive." Sam joked.

"Ha, ha." Dean said. "Very funny. Get back on that computer of yours and see what you can find."

"Man. Somebody's grumpy." Sam answered, pulling out his laptop. "In case you're interested, they did scout for our shark friend, but they think he went back out to open sea." Sam glanced back up at Dean. "Do shark attacks happen a lot up here?"

"Jaws happened in Massachusetts," Dean shrugged. "Maybe?"

"Because I'm looking up the lake, and it looks like another guy got taken out last summer. It was almost the same. Night swim, cloudy night… he didn't come back. He was alone, though, so the guess is he drowned…" Sam scanned the article once more. "No way. He was on the swim team in high school."

"How old was he?"

"About to start college." Sam began to rattle off facts. "Honor student, captain of the swim team, debate team leader, interested in boxing… Here it is."

"What?"

"One arrest just after graduation. Apparently, he tried to smother his girlfriend with a pillow when he caught her cheating…" Sam clicked on another link. "But according to her blog, they had been broken up for quite some time, and he came to her house one night and saw her making out with her new boyfriend. He couldn't handle it, and he beat up the new beau and tried to kill her."

"Beau?" Dean repeated it as if the word tasted funny on his lips. "Did you just say 'beau?'"

"Maybe."

"Who says 'beau' anymore? That's like…" Dean raised his voice a few pitches, imitating a woman as he said, "Oh, I do fancy you. Shall we go a-courting?"

"'A-courting?'" Sam laughed. "Nice."

"Let's get back to the point." Dean's regular deep voice cut off Sam's laughs. "So. Whatshisname is supposedly an all-around good guy with a violent streak, and he bites the dust in the same lake. Coincidence?"

"Nope." Sam said. "John Chamberlain and Tank Johnson have some things in common, don't they?"

"Looks like they do." Dean rubbed his hands together, nodding. "Looks like they do."

"And here's the clincher." Sam added. "The next day, all they found were his bones."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, "Where?"

"Only discrepancy. The divers found them at the bottom of the Cove. They think something came in from the water and picked them clean."

"You think Tank's might have been left out as a warning?"

"Possibly. Spirits do what they will do. Maybe they do want to warn others."

Sam pursed his lips. "But the question is… warn them against what?"


	5. What a night to be alive!

Glorious colors streaked across an open sky as the couple arrived to the sandy shores of the Cove. The soft scent of seawater lingered in the air as the car doors opened. Both the man and the woman inhaled, relishing the delicious scent.

"This is beautiful." Shawna smiled, looking at her love affectionately. "You're the best."

He came over and kissed her, his mouth staying on hers for a long time. "I thought it might make you happy."

The car doors slammed shut. The trunk opened, duffel bags and a rolled up tent spilling out. Bags in hand, the couple set out to make camp as dusk fell, wrapping the Cove in a darkening embrace. Stars came out slowly, piercing the night sky. They pinned back the evening, casting glowing light onto the beach.

By the time the moon rose, Shawna and Kevin's fire had been casting sparks for some time. Dinner was simple; hotdogs roasted on the open flame, followed by s'mores. The fire's warm light illuminated the area around them, chasing shadows back into the corners of the fairytale-like realm.

It was lovely. Shawna couldn't be happier.

"Water looks warm," Kevin said, finishing another bite of melted-chocolate covered marshmallow. "Want to go for a swim?"

"Kevin," Shawna looked at her boyfriend. "You promised."

"It's safe. I'd never suggest it if it wasn't."

"Someone died from a _shark_ attack. I'm not going in there." She leaned forward, her lips inches from his. Her voice was a silky purr. "Besides, I think it's much more fun on dry land, don't you think?"

Kevin caught her meaning, a wicked grin rising from the corner of his mouth. Her attempt to distract him from a swim worked. "I think so, too." He murmured, pressing his lips to hers."

Shawna caught his face, holding it against hers for a moment. "I'll be right back," she whispered after their lips had parted. "I just need a minute." Kevin nodded, still smiling at her as she walked away.

She picked her way out of the woods to the public bathroom nearby. That had been the one thing she had insisted on when she and Kevin were planning this trip- she was _not_ going to go to the bathroom in the woods. Eating, sleeping, and staying outside were all fine, but there needed to be plumbing nearby. That was not negotiable. Thankfully, he had obliged her need, and found a cute little beach in New Hampshire with the perfect accommodations. This late in the year, there were not many campers, and the couple had the beach to themselves.

Shawna heard Kevin before she saw him. On her return, she could hear bits of his conversation. His deep voice carried across the sand.

"Yeah, don't worry. I miss you, too. I'll see you Sunday. Promise. It'll be fine." Kevin switched the phone to his other ear, waving to Shawna as she appeared out of the trees. "Love you, too, Erica. Okay. Bye."

"Who was that?" Shawna sat down next to him as he pressed END on his phone, throwing it back into his bag.

"My sister." Kevin said. "Erica. Her dog ran away, and she's worried. I promised I'd drop by Sunday after we get back to help print up missing posters."

Shawna melted. "You're such a saint."

"I know," Kevin grinned just before he reached for her.

x

Later, Kevin emerged from the tent and stretched. Back in the tent, Shawna was happily sleeping, a content look on her pretty face. Kevin gazed at her for just a moment before closing the flap of the tent.

The night was peaceful, calm. He liked the way the moon reflected on the water, adding little white ripples to the gentle waves. The surface was nearly as smooth as glass. The Cove was well protected from the elements, as if the ocean had burst through the barriers of the land just to claim this little bit for itself. The scene was beautiful. Kevin could even swear he heard it singing to him.

"What a night to be alive!" he whispered, not wanting to break the calm or awaken Shawna.

The water was more than tempting. He felt drawn to it, eager for a swim. Before he knew it, his remaining clothes were left on the shore, and his body was under the water.

He surfaced, savoring the feel of the water against his body. It was the perfect temperature, welcoming him as he swam the length of the Cove. He stopped just before he reached the open sea, his legs kicking to keep him afloat.

Kevin cocked his head to the side, listening. He could hear it louder now, more distinctly. There was singing.

Something brushed against his leg. He kicked hard, connecting with nothing but current. A downward glance showed him nothing. Deep water in the north was never transparent, and especially not when it was accompanied by darkness.

He reached down, his nerves electric, to reassure himself that his limb was still attached. He had heard that before, that a shark attack was so swift, so sudden, the pain did not come until later. Kevin breathed a sigh of relieve as his hand found his thigh, his calve, and finally, his ankle and foot. Everything was attached.

He began to feel silly. Surely, it was only a fish, or a piece of debris that had unnerved him. The chill he hadn't realized he had left his body. He began to relax, the sensation warming him. It was perfectly safe out here; he was sure of that or he never would have gone swimming.

Kevin was a man who did nothing unless he was certain the reward outweighed the risk.

He floated on his back, making his way back across the Cove slowly, but steadily. As he moved, he wondered who was playing that music. It had to be a college kid, throwing a party that lasted until the early hours of the morning. A smirk arose. He remembered those days well. It hadn't been too long that he was that college kid.

Still, the voice was delicate and enchanting, almost hypnotic. Maybe it was a late-night concert somewhere across town. He didn't mind. The song was too lovely to dislike.

Something curled around his wrist, bringing him down swiftly. Kevin's eyes opened as water filled his mouth. He wrenched himself free, struggling back to the surface.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, coughing. Water trickled from his mouth. He blinked, clearing it out of his eyes as he frantically looked around. Naked, and so far out from shore, he began to feel very vulnerable, and very afraid.

Wild eyes watched him from just beneath the surface. He turned at just the right moment, his brows furrowing in confusion. One blink, and the expressionless face was gone.

Keven couldn't convince himself that it was just some kid messing with him. He was getting out of the water, back to the safety of his tent on dry land. He liked land. Land was safe. Land didn't drag you under or rub against your legs.

The docile current moved with him, helping to carry him to land. As he swam, he could hear the same song playing in the distance. It seemed to calm him, separating him from his nerves. It reminded him of Erica. He felt a pang in his heart.

Kevin could only dwell on that pang momentarily. At his next stroke into the water, knifelike claws dug into his wrist, dragging him to the deeps as he screamed. Kevin fought, thrashing blindly against his assailant. His strong hits missed their elusive target. Dark water rushed into his mouth, filling his lungs as they emptied of air. He strained, struggling for his life. He broke free only to be taken again. He continued to choke on salty brine. He saw spots as he began to lose consciousness. His body went limp, but not before he felt ribbons of his flesh being torn from his very bones. His last expression was one of utter agony.

Shawna slept on, blissfully unaware of the violent splashes running crimson in the moonlight, or of her lover's cell phone vibrating, Erica's name shining on the screen.


	6. Taken by Storm

Raindrops danced down the sleek black sides of the Impala as it coasted to a stop. Dressed in sharp suits, Dean and Sam exited the vehicle, badges in hand. Obnoxiously yellow caution tape encircled the beach, wrapping itself around poles, trees, signs… anything to keep innocent civilians out of the water. The gray sky covered the scene. A bleak blanket, it blotted out any bit of hope for the soul that had perished the night before.

Shawna was still at the Cove. She was the last of the lingering people. The officers, reporters, and nosy passersby had left, leaving the dreary scene to itself. The poor woman could only stare out at the sea, her tears mixing with rain as they ran down her broken face.

"Sorry to bother you," Sam began, showing his badge. "I'm Agent Charles, and this is Agent Derek." He motioned towards Dean. "We're sorry to hear about your husband."

Shawna shook her head. "He's – was – my boyfriend. We weren't married." Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at the men before her. "What do you want?"

"We're with the FBI." Dean spoke up. "We just want to go over things with you for a moment."

Shawna's deep brown eyes clouded with confusion. "But, it was a shark attack. At least, that's what they said."

"We have reason to believe this is no ordinary shark." Dean said gently, leaving Shawna to draw her own conclusions.

The mystified woman studied his expression until she decided he was not messing with her. "Like, spy gear or something? From another country? Kevin did work with the government."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "It's classified." They said in unison.

"Oh."

"Shawna, what do you remember about last night?" Dean asked. He diverted her attention before she could ask if the other shark attack victim worked for the government as well.

She closed her eyes, trying to keep control. She had already told her story to a seemingly endless line of questioners. She did not want to go through it yet again. With a sharp exhale, she asked, "Couldn't you get my statement from someone else?"

"Just checking facts, m'am." Dean said. "Please."

Shawna sighed. "We came out here for the weekend. After I fell asleep, I guess he took a swim. When I woke up, he was gone. He left his clothes in the tent, and our car was still here, so I know he didn't run off on me. He had wanted to go for a swim earlier in the evening, but I didn't, so we stayed ashore. He was a good swimmer. I never thought..." she bit her lip. Tears overflowed, coursing down her cheeks again. "I never thought he'd drown."

Sam offered her a tissue. He gave Shawna a moment to dab her eyes and collect herself before he asked his next question. "Drowned? I thought we established this was a shark attack."

Shawna could only shrug. "I don't know. They tell me shark, and I believe it, but Kevin was so _fast._ Nothing could keep up with him. One officer said he suspected a drowning, one said a shark… a third said the shark had moved on days ago… I don't know what to believe."

"Did he say anything weird to you that night, anything out of character?" Sam asked, his gentle voice keeping her steady. He wanted to take the focus off of the cause of death for a moment. The poor woman had dealt with enough already. He would be content to let her think a robot spy shark from a foreign country had devoured her boyfriend if it would bring her peace, though, he didn't particularly know how it could.

Shawna answered in the negative. "He was perfectly himself."

"All right. Well, thank you, Shawna. We'll be in touch." Dean offered her a smile. "Our condolences, of course."

"Thank you." Shawna turned back to the water. The cold waves lapped the shore, hugging the coast. What lay beyond those waves, Shawna would never be completely sure. Her empty eyes scanned the surface, a crestfallen hunger cast over her face. "I know it's silly, but I keep looking. I keep hoping he's going to come up out of that water, and tell me everything's all right." Her voice was quiet, unsteady. She couldn't break her gaze to the sea.

"It's not silly," Sam replied. His compassionate gaze turned to the sea as well. "I know exactly how you feel."

"Thank you." Shawna was finally able to give him a kind smile. "Thank you."

Sam returned her smile before giving her a polite nod good bye. As he and Dean walked back up the path to the Impala, he spoke up. "No matter how long we do this job, that part never gets easier."

"I know." Dean answered. He stopped, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. That brief pause spared his life.

Sam leaped back into the safety of the tree line, pulling Dean with him. Brakes screeched as an orange SUV slammed to a stop. Tire tracks streaked out from behind it. A woman shot out of her car as if she was on fire. She crashed through Sam and Dean without seeing them, bolting for the beach.

In wordless agreement, they followed her.

"You!"

Shawna's attention snapped back to reality. "Who are you?!"

"I'm Erica!"

Shawna opened her arms. "Erica. Erica, I'm so sorry…" Her attempts to hug the woman bought her a shove backwards. Shawna sprawled in the sand, hurrying to her feet. She dared not come closer to the woman. She remained several feet back, unsure of what she had done wrong.

"What's going on, here?" Dean demanded, holding up his badge.

"Officer!" Erica huffed. "You'll have to excuse me while I beat the woman who was sleeping with my husband!"

Shawna's mouth gaped open. "Kevin has a wife?!"

"Had!" Erica hissed. Hysterical tears rushed from her bloodshot eyes. A combination of anger, heartbreak, and grief, she was dangerously hurt. Twenty thousand emotions were using her heart for target practice. Each piercing arrow hurt more than the last until Erica wasn't sure she had a heart left to save. "I got the call… that he was dead… and they tell me he's with his girlfriend… they thought …" she had a hard time composing herself. "They thought I was his _sister_!" Erica's shrieks carried across the beach. "I drove up here… crying, screaming, grieving…"

Shawna couldn't believe it. Her love, her perfect man… he had been lying the whole time. "How long have you been married?" she asked hoarsely, not sure she wanted to know.

"Five years." Erica glared at her. "How long-"

"Four months." Shawna whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never would have gone out with him if I had known-"

"How did you meet?" Erica spat. "How did it start?"

"I knew him from work." Shawna wasn't sure how she was able to keep pushing words from her lips. Suddenly, they flew as of their own accord. "He was a nice guy in the cubicle next to mine. I never thought-"

"Clearly!" snapped Erica. "He has kids, you know. Kids who are already upset because our dog ran away. Now, they have no father. If he wasn't with you…" Rage boiled in her eyes. This woman was bordering on the brink of insanity, driven there by her grief over her broken marriage and dead husband. "If he wasn't with you, he would be alive!"

Erica's grim comments amplified the dark thoughts Shawna had been trying not to think. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, more than she thought she had left. She was sure she was responsible for high tide at this point. "I didn't know, I swear!"

"Ladies." Dean hated to break up what he was sure was going to be a girl fight, but under these circumstances, not even he could enjoy it. "Ladies, why don't I give you a ride to the station and you can sort it out there-"

Deaf to Dean, Erica sprang at Shawna, clawing at her face. She attacked like a rabid animal. Shawna defended herself, throwing her own punches and deflecting Erica's slaps. Erica punched Shawna in the stomach. Shawna doubled over, right into Sam's arms as Dean yanked Erica back.

"Ladies!" Dean snapped. "This won't fix anything."

"Throw her in with the shark." Erica growled. "That might fix something." She crumpled into tears again. "God. You know, he said he had a business trip this weekend…"

Sam had to say something, but what? They had never encountered anything like this on the job before. There had been exposed affairs, yes, but never like this. Never before had they witnessed the aftermath of something like this. "Please, fighting won't help."

Shawna wanted to throw herself in with the shark. She wanted to die. She had wrecked a home- an entire family. Unknowingly or not, she could not forgive herself. She couldn't stop repeating apologies through her bleeding lips, wounded from one of Erica's punches. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Say that to my kids." Erica said. "Say that to my family."

Dean cleared his throat before Shawna could respond. "Okay. We're taking you two downtown." He threw his keys to Sam. "Agent Charles, you take Shawna. I'll escort Erica in her car. Any trouble, and you're under arrest. Is that clear?" He kept speaking before they could react. "I'm sorry for your loss. I am. But nothing will get solved by beating brains out on the beach. It's a danger to you," he looked pointedly at Erica, "To you," he said to Shawna, "And to anyone who happens to get in your way." He lowered his voice, speaking only to Erica. "Now, listen, lady, she didn't know, and her reaction is undeniable. Take it easy on her, okay? Doing this to her won't make it any easier for you. I'm sorry for what you're going through. Believe me; I know what it's like to lose someone. Don't let it make you dangerous."

Her adrenaline gone, Erica could only hang her head. She had been battling the havoc of her loss for hours upon hours, and after the fight, she was drained. She gave one last menacing look to Shawna before giving Dean her keys to allow him to drive her to the police station.

The orange SUV left before the Impala. Sam lingered in the parking lot with Shawna. He gave her time to soak in everything that had transpired. As she reached for yet another tissue, he kindly asked if she was okay.

She gave a bitter laugh. "Okay sounds like heaven compared to how I feel right now."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"Me, too." Shawna sighed. "I am in one piece, if that's what you're really asking."

"Hang in there." Sam said. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Her gaze held questions, more than Sam knew he would ever be able to answer. Only one was vocalized. "Did you know he was married?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"But, you're the FBI," she frowned. "You think you'd know that kind of thing."

"I can only know what they tell me." Sam answered. "Ready to go?"

Shawna leaned back into her seat. "As ready as I'll ever be." She conceded, staring blankly out of the window. "Thanks for coming to my rescue back there, by the way."

Sam eased the Impala into the street. He knew why Dean let him drive it to the station- he didn't want someone as wildly irrational and unpredictable as Erica inside it. Besides, it made sense to take Erica's car to the station so she could have it later. He had to admit that he enjoyed the time he had driving the Impala himself.

"No problem." He said finally. "I wasn't going to leave you to the wolves."

"Or the shark?"

"Or the shark." Sam reassured her. "You'll be all right, Shawna."

"How do you know?" She tore a new tissue, pressing it against her lip in an attempt to clean her sore face.

"When you've seen as much as I have, you know." Sam said. "Your situation isn't fun, and it isn't easy, but I have a feeling you'll be all right."

Her miserable eyes fixed themselves on him once again. "Just get that shark. Please. Don't let anyone else get hurt because of it." She pleaded with him. The tissue stuck to her lip when she tried to replace it with a new, clean one. She wrapped the blood stained one in a clean one, shoving it in her pocket to discard later.

"We're doing our best." Sam wished he could clear up this case as easily as the windshield wipers could whisk away the steady rain. A little clarity would be fantastic right about now.

He dropped off Shawna and picked up Dean, switching to the passenger's side as his brother took the wheel. The two drove back to the motel in silence, each forming his own plan for the next step in this case. The hum of the Impala accompanied their thoughts, providing a soundtrack for an otherwise silent ride.


	7. Research

"So, get this," Sam pushed his long brown locks out of his blinking eyes. He was both tired and wired, and sure he had more coffee in his veins than blood. "We have a definite pattern, right? These guys died because they hurt the women who loved them. It has to be a spirit, but …" he held up a stack of well-read papers. "All of the deaths are accounted for. Anyone who drowned still had their skin attached, so that was easy. The attacked victims were cremated, at least, what was left of them was. I did find two more. This thing has a specific goal."

"Especially if it is a spirit." Dean said through a mouthful of apple. He swallowed. "The pattern helps. Did you look for murders, scandals, anything like that?"

"I did." Sam still stared at the screen. "Oh, hang on. I think this might be something."

On screen, the black and white ink of an old, grainy photo appeared. Dean came over to get a closer look. The photo showed a happy couple, both smiling at the camera. The woman, a sweet faced brunette, kept her hand on her husband's shoulder affectionately. The man was looking past the camera. It was a casual photo, taken from the late nineteen eighties. A candid from a picnic, it gave a face to the names in the article below.

"John and Kate O'Grady." Dean read. He chuckled. "It's always an O'Grady, isn't it? You'd think they'd put a warning on guys with names like that."

"Keep reading." Sam's eyes darted over line after line as he absorbed the information. "She found him in bed with another woman, so he killed her. Seems a little backwards, but I guess… yeah, here it is. When she wanted to divorce him, he took her to the Cove for a 'romantic evening.' She thought he wanted to patch things up, so she went. He got a boat, held her head under the water, weighed the body down and tossed it out to sea."

"Apparently, this wasn't the first time she caught him cheating." Dean pointed out. "And no one would have known if he didn't keep such detailed notes in his journal. Hey, look at that."

"Justice." Sam said wryly. "He went swimming in the Cove a month later, and vanished. Looks like they found his bones a few days later, and the journal a week after that."

Dean rubbed his hands together. "Looks like we have ourselves a spirit. Let's go burn her bones, Sammy." He reached for his jacket, taking a final bite of his apple as he did. He tossed the core in the trash.

"There's nothing to burn. They never found her body."

"Crap. Okay." Dean muttered. "Should've seen that coming, I guess. We could burn his bones." He suggested.

"That wouldn't help us."

"He kinda deserves it. And you never know, he might have a lock of her hair on him or something."

"I wonder what happened to her body." Sam mused. "Probably actual sharks."

"Probably." Dean plopped onto the couch. "Which sucks for us. When did she die?"

"The eighties. About now, actually. Her anniversary is coming up. Oh," Sam winced, reading another detail off of the screen. "He killed her on their wedding anniversary. Nice."

"What I want to know is why she woke up now. Why lay dormant for all of this time, and then suddenly start killing? What makes now so special?" Dean asked.

"Could be anything. She probably can't leave the water, which makes sense because that's where any of her remains would be, if there are any. Secondly, she's going after some pretty bad guys. Men who beat their girlfriends or wives, have tried to kill them, or have had an affair, as we so clearly learned yesterday. There probably aren't too many of those in this town, and even less who are willing to come to the Cove. Besides, she wasn't exactly dormant. I've got notes on five men at least. There's always the chance at least a few deaths went unreported."

"Bones showing up on the shore? That's not exactly subtle."

"True. Some probably stayed on the bottom, though." Sam clicked on a link within the article about the O'Grady's. "But, the thing that gets me is this: If she already got John, which I'm betting she did, why is she still hanging around?"


	8. In Broad Daylight

"You're such a jerk, Steve!" Lucy's musical laugh echoed across the water. "I can't believe you made me do this."

"You wanted to!" Steve teased her. "I'm not making you do anything. We can leave right now, if you want."

"Ha! No way." Lucy grinned. "We're staying."

Sun reflected across the Cove's gentle waves. The air was clear. The afternoon was warm. Neither Steve nor Lucy noticed the eyes silently watching from just above the surface only to dive back into the deep. Hardly a ripple spread from the watcher's departure. The salty water was not disturbed.

"Come on. I dare you." Lucy pulled Steve by the hand. "One dive. One dive, and when we come out, we can have some fun. Okay?"

Just before Steve entered the water, he paused. "Luce, what if it is a shark?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hellllo? Bones on the shore? That's not a shark, that's a serial killer."

"And you want to dive in the water with a serial killer because…"

"To prove there isn't one." Lucy stated. "Honestly. I don't believe this whole thing. I think it's a prank."

"Two people died." Steve pointed out. "According to the news, anyway."

"Which you don't really believe," Lucy said, kissing him quickly, "Or you wouldn't be here with me."

Steve could only grin. "Very true. Besides, I'll keep you safe from any serial killer. I can take him."

"I love it when you get tough." Lucy beamed. "You're the best." They kissed again, quickly. "Let's go."

Lucy took off at a run, Steve following alongside. The water was inviting. Warm from the hot sun, it felt like bath water. Lucy found it a very romantic place to spend some time. The trees towering over head made it a nice, secret hideaway in her mind. A butterfly floated on the breeze, landing on a flower back in the grass. It was peaceful.

Steve splashed Lucy, wrapping his arms around her waist and dunking both of them into the ocean. Water flooded over them, burying them in its cozy embrace. They came up sputtering and laughing, until Lucy pushed him under for revenge.

She waited for him to come back to the surface. A slow, creeping panic crawled up into her thoughts. He'd been gone too long. She hadn't heard a sound. Lucy peered into the water, but could see nothing in the sea that surrounded her. "Steve!"

A sharp yank caught her. She was under the water, kicking and fighting for her life. She broke away, gasping for breath, unable to see. Water streamed from her hair. The first sound she became aware of was Steve's laughter booming across the Cove.

"You did not just do that." She cried. "You had me scared to death!"

He came back, enveloping her in a long hug before she could try to push him away. His laughter ceased, and an apology took its place. "I'm sorry. You okay?"

A wave smacked him right in the face. "I am now." She smirked.

"Hey!"

Distracted by their flirtatious splashes, the couple never noticed the creature moving toward them Slowly, stealthily, it swam. Hidden by the deep water, it could not be seen. There was a powerful thrust to propel it forward, and then it dove even deeper. Crawling on the bottom, it remained poised for the right moment of attack.

"Did you hear that?" Steve paused. Lucy looked around, but shrugged. "It was a splash from someplace else." Steve explained. "It must have come from the fishermen."

Lucy nodded. She had noticed the boat with the two men when she thought Steve was missing. "Maybe they caught something!"

"Good for them!" Steve grinned. "Hey! What's that in the water?"

Lucy nearly jumped. "What?!"

"My beautiful girlfriend!"

"Steve!" Lucy splashed him, but she was smiling. He came after her again, bringing her back under. The two could no longer touch the bottom of the sea. They had lost track of how far they had gotten, captivated by the edge of danger and the loving look in each other's eyes. Nothing could interrupt their bliss.

"Get out of the water!"

Except for that.

Two men stood on the shore. Raw determination was sealed in their locked jaws. "Out! Police business!"

"Is something wrong, Officer?" Lucy asked, swimming in. Steve was right beside her.

"Did you not see the caution tape?" Dean growled. "Out. Both of you. Now."

"We're coming!" Steve reassured them. "What's wrong?"

Sam and Dean lowered their guns. They had never intended to shoot, but if something came after the teenagers, they would have a better chance to stop it. It had never attacked in broad daylight, but that didn't mean it wouldn't.

"There's a shark in the water. You know that. You had to have heard about it." Dean yelled across the remaining distance. The teens were almost in. Lucy could feel the sand if she stretched her legs far enough.

"Actually, I have a theory that it's-" Lucy's scream cut off the edge of her sentence. She was flung backwards through the air before landing in the Cove with a loud splash. She surfaced, howling for help, only to be taken below again.

"Lucy!" Steve shouted. He immediately tried to dive back in to rescue her. Dean grabbed him, keeping him contained.

"Sammy, go."

Without thinking twice, Sam shot into the water. Lucy was fighting for her life. Water churned as the terrified girl shrieked. Sam could see the water turning red. He knew Lucy didn't have much time left.

Lucy struggled against an invisible enemy. Bloody water filled her mouth as she tried to breath. She managed to spit it out. Her refusal to go under was powered by an incredible strength she didn't know she had. She clawed at her opponent, throwing kicks and scratches when she could, but connecting with nothing. She cried out as she felt sharp claws tear her skin, cutting to the bone. Her legs burned. She could not hold on much longer.

Sam moved swiftly, arm over arm in long strokes. He held his breath and dove, knowing he could reach her faster underwater. He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Before him was the now vicious face of Kate O'Grady. Fangs protruded from her twisted mouth, hanging open in a snarl. Her eyes were piercing, cold blue that turned his blood to ice. Deathly grey skin held blackened scars slashing across her arms and torso. Her dark brown hair was the only thing unchanged. Wound into it were twigs, tiny crabs, and bits of clothing from her victims. The finger of her right hand boasted a shiny, beautiful wedding ring, the same from the photograph he had seen just the day before.

"Lucy!" Steve bellowed. He pleaded with Dean, begging to be released. "Please, Officer, do something! We have to help them! Lucy!" Steve's voice was nearly hoarse. Dean kept him close, refusing to weaken his grip. He didn't look away from the situation for a moment.

Kate curved upward, moving in the water as naturally as a fish. She took no notice of Sam as she wrapped her spiky claws around Lucy's leg, taking what lingered of the flesh of her left shin. Blood colored the water scarlet. Sam rushed to the girl, seizing her before the monster could drag her under. He kept her face above the surface.

Lucy could only scream. The fishermen in the distance heard her cries. They were already on their way. The boat's motor roared as they pushed it to the fastest speed it could travel. Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough. They shouted to Sam, but the wind stole their voices.

"C'mon, Sammy!" Dean shouted. "Get back here! Bring her back here!"

They had gotten much farther out during the course of the fight. Stranded in the middle of the Cove, Sam kept fighting, stabbing blindly into the water with his long knife. He hoped to make some kind of a connection with that beast, enough to keep her at bay long enough to rescue Lucy. The blood loss was already weakening her. Without Sam holding her, she would have slipped to her death long ago.

White water churned around them as they struggled. Lucy's head lolled to the side. She was still with him. Every now and again she would whimper, or call out for Steve. Sam was bringing her in. The fishermen were still too far away to help.

Steve still pulled against Dean. He broke free of Dean's weary hands only to be yanked back again. "Please! Let me go! That's my girlfriend! I have to help her!"

"That's my brother!" Dean replied. "He's her best hope."

"Let me go!"

"There's nothing you can do!"

"Let me _go_!"

Dean only tightened his grip. "Do you mind? I'm trying to save your life, kid. Stop fighting me on this."

Kate kept trying to drag Sam and Lucy into the deep. Sam kept her at bay with the knife, but only long enough to get his breath between strikes. Her eyes were hungry for their deaths. Her wretched hand wrapped itself around Lucy's thigh, the sharp claws sinking several inches into her muscle. The pain woke Lucy enough for one more gut-wrenching scream before she blacked out.

Sam kicked. The monster connected with his feet, but she hung on to Lucy. She yanked. Sam and Lucy dipped beneath the surface.

"Sam!" Dean hollered. He swore.

Sam's soaked head re-appeared. He sucked air into his lungs. Dean watched him get his bearings. He watched the puzzled expression cross his brother's face as he realized the monster was gone.

Sam wasted not a moment of precious time. He began to swim for shore. The fishermen had almost caught up with him. A glance over his shoulder told him they would likely overtake him. He hoped they would give him a lift back.

Lucy picked up her head, entranced. "Steve." She whispered. "Steve."

Sam heard the melody, too. The song carried, enchanting him. Warmth spread over his body. He felt happy, relaxed. He looked at Lucy, wondering why she was in his arms. She looked back at him, wondering the same.

The song lifted her from him. Sam closed his eyes, trying to memorize the tune. He wanted to lock it away in the recesses of his mind and replay it every time he felt down. It lifted his cares from him as easily as it had lifted Lucy. He felt content and peaceful for the first time in what was probably years.

"What are you doing, Sam?!" Dean demanded. "Get …"

The song swallowed Dean's voice. Sam was deliriously happy. Good memories were coming back now, things he hadn't thought about in years. He remembered happy times with Jessica. He remembered her face when he had surprised her with just the right birthday present. He remembered the way she felt against him as they slept. He remembered her smile, how her eyes lit up when he entered the room.

Then, he remembered Madison.

Madison. His heart ached. The notes of the song seemed to darken, bringing back black memories he had long ago tried to bury. Madison, the beautiful woman he couldn't save. Madison, the first girl he had let himself love since Jess. Madison… the werewolf he had killed by his own hand.

His heart broke. "Madison." He cried. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Was that her voice wound into the song? It couldn't be. It was impossible. And still, he heard her singing to him, calling to him from somewhere he couldn't quite find. Her words were tormenting him, reminding him that he had been the one to pull the trigger. He had ended her life, and she would never forgive him for it.

"But, you asked me! You wanted me to!" Sam protested. His raw heart ached. All of the pain he had felt came rushing back in destructive torrents. "I'm sorry! Madison!"

A soft cry for Steve came from Lucy's lips as the monster took her under. She vanished to the sounds of Steve's heartbroken screams. "LUCY! Come back!"

He broke out of Dean's hold. Throwing himself into the water, he saw the monster dragging his beloved to the depths. Air raced from his mouth as he screamed.

Kate O'Grady locked eyes with him. He could swear he saw something almost like pity in that stabbing gaze. She circled back. Steve felt frozen. He knew she was coming for him.

Just before she reached him, she stopped.

It took Dean a moment to be able to see anything under the water. Sediment from the bottom obscured his vision. He swam a little deeper, out past the upset sand. Had he hesitated for only a moment, he wouldn't have seen the barely still visible form of Kate O'Grady stealing Sam and Lucy away.


	9. Myths and Monsters

Dean plunged deeper into the sea. The salty water stung his open eyes as he strained to see his brother and the ghostly woman who had bewitched him. He could make out next to nothing. The monster traveled with a speed far superior to his own. She moved with the grace and finesse of one who had been born into the sea. Her swimming looked strange from this distance; it was as if she moved like a dolphin instead of the human she used to be. Dean didn't focus on that for long. He saw Sam, limp in her grasp, with a pained expression of anguish on his features. He climbed to the surface, desperate to bring him back.

"I need your boat!" Dean's voice echoed across the water before he opened his eyes to see that he had caught a stroke of luck. The fishermen were right beside him. They hauled him into the boat. Water streamed off of his clothes. The fabric stuck to him, making his movements slow and clumsy. The men believed he was an officer and gave up control of the boat without a fight. The motor fired up, and Dean pursued the spirit. He could only hope she stayed close to the surface.

Sunlight filtered through the water, providing decent vision. Dean kept his gun ready, thankful he had thought to wrap it in a waterproof binding before leaving the hotel. He scanned the water with growing anxiousness. "Where are you, Sammy?" he muttered. "Where are you?"

The monster was waiting for him. She was vertical in the water, looking up at him through the surface with her cutting gaze, watching his every move. She was hungry, and it looked like two souls weren't going to be enough for her. Dean took a half moment to assess his opportunity for his best chance to drive the thing away and rescue Sam and Lucy.

Limp in her grasp was Lucy. The girl's eyes were staring blankly, unseeing. Her skin was deathly white. Dean could see her bones, white and hard, sticking out from edges of ragged flesh. Muscle and skin dangled from the rest of her body. He knew she was gone.

Sam was being tormented. Dean couldn't read his brother's mind, but he knew whatever was going through it was horrific. He was screaming out, air bubbling from his mouth as he spoke to an invisible someone. The monster's song kept him breathing, but only until she was ready to finish him. That was what Dean hoped. No other conclusion could be drawn. The lips of the beast were still singing, and Sam's chest was still rising and falling. Dean took it as a good sign.

Then, Kate broke the surface. Her enchanting song poured over Dean like a hot shower on a snowy day. She sang delicate notes to him wound in a melodious harmony meant to take his fear and coax him into her power. She kept a tight grip on Lucy's body and the other arm around Sam, her claws digging into his chest to keep him in place. She let him break the surface too, allowing him a breath of actual air before she pushed his head down again.

Her hypnotic song was enough to draw the attention of the fishermen. To them, she appeared angelic and beautiful, a thing of myths and legends. Her spell deceived their very sight. They began to argue over who got to kiss her first. She paid them no mind. She merely wanted Dean.

Dean felt the warm glow of her music wash over him. He smiled stupidly for a moment, drinking in the delightful thoughts she brought to his mind. He nearly gave in to the call. He desired what she asked: to throw himself overboard and come with her in the sea. He almost did it.

"Madison." Sam murmured as he bobbed up and then back down in the monster's grasp. His lips had barely ben above water, yet it was enough. Dean heard his broken whisper. He saw Sam floating like a rag doll, agony contorting his features. One look at the state of Sam woke Dean right up. He pulled the trigger.

The monster shrieked. The seductive notes ceased as a bloodcurdling screech ripped out from her throat. She pressed her hand to her head where the salt-filled bullet had punctured it, dropping both Sam and Lucy's body as she did. With a twist and a flip, she left, arcing into the water and vanishing before Dean could really believe what he just saw. She was not an ordinary spirit.

x

Sam awoke instantly. He found himself on his back, in a boat, staring up at a sunny sky. His clothes were wet, and he was less that comfortable. "What happened?"

"She nearly got you, that's what happened." Dean explained.

"And Lucy?"

Dean shook his head.

Her body was already gone. It sank to the bottom, coming to rest on the soft sand beneath the surface. If her legs were not mangled, she would have looked like she was comfortably slumbering on the ocean floor. She looked almost serene, sung into eternal sleep by the spirit of Kate O'Grady.

Shark fins were already circling on the surface. It wouldn't be long before her body was as far gone as her spirit.

The fishermen snapped out of their own spell, each dazed and confused, as if they had woken up from a lovely dream. Dean answered their questions vaguely, preferring to let them keep their own interpretations of what happened than to disturb them with the truth. Frankly, he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"Poor girl." Sam winced, remembering. "She fought so hard."

Back on shore, Steve paced the sand. He had seen everything, but he wasn't willing to accept it until he received sorrowful, grim looks from the brothers as they climbed out of the boat. "I'm sorry, Steve," Sam said. "It dragged her down, and she drowned."

"Was it a shark?" Steve asked coldly as the boat sailed away.

Dean nodded.

"You're lying." Steve growled. "I saw her. I saw the serial killer. Why are you protecting her? _Why_ did you tell me it was a shark?!"

"There are things you can't understand right now." Sam explained. "For official purposes, it's best-"

"I don't give a damn about official purposes!" Steve shot back. "My girlfriend is dead. You could have saved her, but you didn't because that _thing _had you in its grip too. I saw that. I saw everything. So tell me what is going on!"

"Steve," Sam began.

"No!" Steve's eyes burned with distraught rage. "Please. Don't tell me anything but the truth." His voice broke, burdened with grief and horror.

"In the nineteen eighties, a woman was murdered by her husband here," Sam answered, despite Dean's glare. "Her husband drowned her and left her body for the sharks. It looks like her spirit is haunting the Cove."

Steve's face crumpled. "You –"

"Hey." Dean cut in as Steve called them several colorful names. "You wanted to know, so my partner told you. Don't ask if you don't want to know."

"Partner?" Steve snarled cruelly, his hurt empowering his anger. "You're not cops."

"You're right. We're not." Dean was out of patience. Either this kid was going to accept the truth, or he wasn't, and Dean didn't care to stand around debating while he made up his mind. He decided to lay it flat out. "We're hunters. We gank the things that go bump in the night, the ones that scare you so badly, you go crying to your mom and dad because you can't take the heat. So, when we say the spirit of a murdered woman is haunting this lake, the spirit of a murdered woman is haunting this lake, and that's the way it is. Because like it or not, monsters are real, and we're the only thing standing between you and a very grim death, my friend."

Steve was quiet for a moment. Sam nudged Dean. "Wasn't that a little harsh?" he muttered.

"Ask an obvious question, get an obvious answer." Dean shrugged. "Besides, he saw her. I couldn't tell him anything else, now, could I?"

"But, why Lucy?" Steve asked, his hard edge gone. His voice trembled. He looked at the brothers with empty eyes. "Why not me?"

"That's what we're working on." Sam knew the answer was probably known only to Lucy. Given to Kate's pattern, there had to be a secret she had never told Steve. Sam wasn't going to break the news to him. The kid had already been through enough. "I'm sorry about Lucy."

He truly was. Sam wished he could have saved her more than anything. He would have died in her place if it meant that she could have gone free. He had been so close, but so far. She had slipped through his grasp like so many before her. Sam knew there was going to be one more face finding her way into his nightmares, the kind that kept him tossing and turning. The people he couldn't save haunted him worse than any specter he had ever faced.

"Me, too." Steve said. He didn't look towards the sea. He couldn't watch the sharks finish what was left of Lucy. He said nothing more before he began to walk away. When he reached the path that lead back to the parking lot, he turned. "Thanks for being honest with me. It doesn't help… it actually kind of makes things worse… but at least I know. So thanks for that, I guess."

"Take it easy, kid." Dean said instead of goodbye. As Steve shuffled off, Dean exhaled. "I'm glad he didn't kill us."

"I almost had her, Dean. She almost made it."

"Wonder what she did to make it go after her like that."

"I don't know. I can guess, but I don't know."

"What was it like, being under her spell?" Dean asked as they made their way back to the Impala. He glanced at Sam curiously.

"I can't remember anything." Sam admitted. "The last thing I remember is trying to fight her off, and then everything goes blank."

"You get a look at her?"

"Good, not great. I was too busy trying to keep her from tearing into Lucy. She doesn't look anything like her photo anymore. Not surprised. They usually don't." Sam answered. He was ready to go back to the room and dry off. The day wasn't as warm when his clothes were soaked. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Did you happen to notice her freaking fish tail?" Dean asked, happy the beach was deserted. He took another cautious glance around as he dialed a number on his cell phone. "Yes, hi, thank God you picked up." he said, adding panic into his voice. "I think I just saw someone get attacked by the shark at the Cove. Yes. She was swimming and then she screamed and was gone. I tried to go after her, but there was nothing I could do. Yes. Mhm. My name? Absolutely. My name is-" _Click. _"That will send the right people after poor little Lucy. Let's get out of here."

Sam was barely listening. He was distracted by what Dean had just said. _Fish tail?!_

* * *

_A/N: I just want to thank the hundreds of you who have read this story! Thank you so much for making this one of my most popular pieces. You're awesome! Thank you especially to the people who have favorited and followed. That makes me smile. You guys are great! I'm very curious to know what you all think! Reviews are welcome. Enjoy the story, lovelies! :D _

_Love,_

_invisiblemirage_


	10. Sifting Truth

"A mermaid." Sam said incredulously. He asked again, "You seriously want me to buy that we're hunting a _mermaid_?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Dean answered. "All I can tell you is I saw her tail. She's definitely not a usual spirit. She's not even human looking anymore. She casts her spell by singing, and there you go."

Sam was still unwilling to accept it. "I think I would have noticed that when Evil Ariel carried me off."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Evil Ariel. I'm not talking Disney princess, I'm talking flesh-eating, man hating, monsters of the deep. She had it in for you, Sam. I don't know what you did, but you were on her list."

Sam was quiet. "Yeah, I was." he murmured, thinking. A painful memory flashed though his mind. "Oh, God. Madison."

"Yeah, you did, uh, mention her when you were under O'Grady's spell." Dean supplied. He sat down on the bed, unwilling to press the issue. He still remembered how much that had wrecked Sam. It couldn't be easy to have it all right back at the forefront of his mind all over again. "I saw you looking worse than ever. It woke me up. I think that's why I didn't fall under her song. I know I've got a long list of love-'em- and-leave-'em."

"I think we made her angry, man. I mean, she's got it in for me, and she gets her victims. If you're on her list, watch out."

"I think I can handle her." Dean replied. "I shot her, didn't I?"

"But she's still out there." Sam said. "Alive and killing. The cops won't let anyone near the water. They've got officers standing by now. No one gets near the water, night or day."

"Maybe not by land." Dean began to pace as he worked out an idea. "We could rent a boat. Come in by water. Go at night. Gank that mother before she knows what's hit her."

"Great plan, but how do you kill a mermaid?"

Dean only smiled. "That's your job, college boy. Look it up."

X

Mermaid lore was a joke. Movies and characters flooded the feed from the search. Drawings and fake documentaries provided plenty of debates but no actual information. He stumbled upon several videos of self-acclaimed 'professional mermaids' who had made it into magazines and commercials. "Huh. Well, that's one way to make a living," he mused. He was distracted by those videos for a while. Watching the human mermaids swim through the water was close to magical. Each looked peaceful and at ease as she moved through the ocean. "Good for them."

Sam knew their killer was definitely not one of those women. And so, he bypassed anything that resembled a professional mermaid or a tail maker - apparently, there were a lot of tail makers on the Internet – and kept searching.

Sam poured over legends and articles, looking for any scrap of truth to the mystery of the mermaid whatsoever. He had seen enough odd things in the world to know not to rule it out completely, but he still had his doubts. After all, plenty of people had 'seen' Bigfoot, and he wasn't real. What made mermaids any different?

Sailors had been convinced of their existence for centuries. Sam was convinced the sailors were just lonely and delirious. Disappearances at sea were obviously drownings. Singing women were drunken hallucinations from men desperate to see a female face. Time and time it had been proved over and over that mermaids were a well-concocted myth and nothing more.

He continued to dig. If Kate O'Grady had become a mermaid, he wanted to know why, how, and exactly what kind she was. He gave the lore next to no weight, but it was agreed among most that mermaids were as temperamental and different as humans. Sam was inclined to agree. They were neither good, nor evil, but they could be, and they seemed to exercise free will, like humans did. There was the kind, helpful type most often depicted in films like The Little Mermaid, Aquamarine, and Splash, there was the superpower kind depicted in Australian television shows, and then there was the kind Kate most likely fit into.

Dark stories circled around these devil-fish, as they used to be called by sailors in the eighteenth century. They were behind drownings, sinking ships, luring men to their deaths. They sang to them, causing them to dash their ships to pieces against rocks. Once the ship was destroyed, they went after the sailors. They liked to take the flesh from the bone, devouring the men that fell to be their prey. They lurked in deep water, surfacing only to hunt. They took no captives. If a man caught a mermaid's attention, he did not live to tell the tale.

Sam's only experience with that kind came from his only viewing of the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean. They were vicious huntresses who feasted on men and enjoyed seducing and killing them for fun. While he never gave movie sources too much credence, he had to admit Kate sounded a little more White Cap Bay and a little less Ariel. He saved that source and moved on.

He yawned, stretched, and dove back in to the mess of mermaids on his laptop screen.

The search 'how mermaids are born' lead to seemingly medical oriented articles about babies who were born with 'mermaid syndrome,' or 'sirenomelia,' a rare condition where a child was born with her or his legs fused together. He skimmed over that out of morbid curiosity. He returned to his search results to see an argument about whether mermaids gave live birth or laid eggs. That was also useless.

"People really take their mermaids seriously." He concluded, leaning back in his chair. He needed a beer. Dean had gone out to get some an hour ago. Sam hoped he would be back soon.

The next link brought him to an old article claiming mermaids were born when wronged women died at sea. It said another mermaid could perform a ritual to change her, or if the conditions were right, the woman would change on her own, especially if she had a restless spirit. He read on to the description of how the transformation worked. It was very flowery, a recipe built on saltwater and moonlight, broken hearts and shattered love. It sounded a little too 'romantic' for Sam's taste, but he kept the tab open anyway. The pieces fit with Kate's death. He had looked up the night she died to confirm. It had been a full moon. According to the legends, full moons were practically the mermaid's deity. Not exactly, but close enough. They were supposed to be a source of power for the mermaids, among many other things. Nearly all sources agreed on that. Sam decided a full moon was a plausible ingredient.

Another search lead to a different article. The ritual described was a bit more intense – a full moon was needed, the woman had to drink a mixture of her blood and the ocean, she had to have been killed at sea, and she had to be touched by a moonstone while underwater. Sam called it a fake. The webpage was clearly a ruse set up by a bored student long ago. It was a dead end, mixing accepted myths with edgier things to make it appear more 'realistic' than it really was.

Various pages started to blur together in his mind. Everyone had his or her on theory on how mermaids came to be. Evolution. Hatching. Live birth. Magic. Curses. Witches. (Sam seriously hoped it wasn't witches.) Drowning. Moonlight. There was too much junk to sift truth out of.

Another hour passed as Sam scoured sources. He managed to collect a few things that seemed possible. If it fit with what he knew about Kate, he decided it was credible. While he still doubted the fact that she was an actual mermaid, Dean had seen the tail, and she sure as hell had sung him into her enchantment.

As time passed, Sam remembered more and more of the torments he had endured because of her song. He had seen Madison before him. She had been just as beautiful as ever, with that smile that melted his heart. He still missed her, to this day, and the guilt that had broken out of his still healing heart was unbearable. He would never be able to forgive himself for killing her. Regardless of her having asked him to, regardless of there being no way to save her, he had never been able to let it go. Sam knew he never would, not completely, anyway. He still believed he had done a terrible thing. Madison still showed up in his dreams and in his nightmares. He still hurt for her, still grieved for her. Kate O'Grady had made sure Sam knew why she was killing him: Because he had killed Madison.

His heart still ached over the surfaced memories. He tried so hard to push them down, but they never seemed to stay. Now, with the last touches of Kate's curse still making the pain sharp and fresh, Sam couldn't think of anything else.

He bowed his head, and let a few tears fall.


	11. Read It And Weep

"Dig up anything good?"

Dean shut the door behind him, putting the twelve pack of beer on the floor. Sam crossed over to that side of the room, pulling one out of the pack. He popped the top off and raised it to his lips, taking a long draw.

"Well?" Dean interjected, grabbing a beer for himself.

"I don't know, Dean. A few things fit with Kate's story, but I'm not convinced. Are you sure we've ruled out shape shifter, or shape-shifting demon?" Sam asked. He stuck a hand in his pocket and propped himself against the wall.

"I've never heard of either one of those doin' that." Dean answered. "I did call Bobby, and he said the same. Trust me, I know what I saw. Weird as it is, it's a freakin' mermaid." He raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed. "I thought I was the skeptic."

Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah, I thought so, too. Guess I have a little skepticism in me after all." He grinned, nodding at Dean.

The beer helped ease the pain brought on by Madison's memory. Losing her hadn't hurt Sam nearly as much as losing Jess, but the blow had still left a permanent scar on him. Having the hurt drudged up all over again was a ride he didn't want to take twice. The sooner Kate was put to rest, the better.

"You know, I wish we could just salt and burn her." Dean said. "It would make our lives so much easier."

"Tell me about it." Sam agreed. He returned to his computer, gathering his notes. "Sources on mermaids are crap. I've keyed into a few good leads though, ones that describe how she turned. Or, start to, anyway. Most sources agree that if a broken hearted woman dies at sea, she will turn into a mermaid. Of course, the conditions have to be right. Her spirit has to be restless-"

"Kate's sure was. She was murdered."

"Right. Then, the moon has to be out- I guess the level of strength a mermaid has is based on how much moon is out, like whether it's a full moon, or a crescent, or a half, or whatever. Our girl had a full moon or her birth."

"Of course she did."

"Yup. So, we have a winner for your basic mermaid transformation, according to the internet. I need to get to the library and cross-check a few things, but despite the weird stuff you find when you look up mermaids, I think we're on the right path." Sam continued. He emailed a few links to himself for easy access once he got to the library. He'd be able to print as many things as he wanted, and match it with book sources. It would provide a very solid foundation to this mermaid business.

Dean grinned. "Great. So, we know how she happened. Do we know how to kill her?"

"Not yet." Sam said. He gathered a few things into his backpack. "Ready?"

Dean made a face. "Dude. I just got back."

"Yeah, I know. What took you so long?" Sam asked, slinging his pack over his shoulder.

Dean only smiled. "A pretty girl was giving me her phone number. I wasn't going to rush her."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

X

The small town library didn't have much on mermaids. Sam had to make do with three books and a DVD. He tossed the DVD back onto the shelf immediately, easily reading the signs of conspiracy theories running in its description. Time was short. He wasn't going to waste it.

He leafed through the table of contents, looking for the chapter on mermaid births. Found on the fantasy shelf, the book was more fiction than fact, but he had searched things like that before. He knew how to glean the information he wanted from the less-than-helpful subjects on the page.

Turning to the page marked in the book, he skimmed the information until something caught his eye. "Here we go. This guy's father was a sailor back in the early eighteen hundreds. He left a girl on land, not knowing how crazy for him she was. When she thought he died at sea, she flung herself off a cliff, into the sea, and died. A year later, he hears her singing and looks into the water to see her watching him. Needless to say, he was pretty spooked."

"What were the grog rations like back then?" Dean smirked. "Sounds like a pretty tall tale to me. Give it a shot, though. It fits the bill."

"It does." Sam studied the page again. "It says he wasn't a drinker."

"He a liar?"

"No. Two or three people confirmed that he didn't like to drink, and one confirmed the sighting." Sam closed the book. "Fact or fiction?"

Dean shrugged. "To the unknowing, fiction. To us, definitely a little something more. Look here." He pointed to an open page in another book. "Woman running for her life when they found out she had an affair. They ran her into the sea, and she drowned herself rather than face the consequences of her choices. She was confirmed dead, and since she died in disgrace, they left her body at sea. She was seen three times after that." Dean flipped the page. "Here's a photo of her, before and after."

The photo wasn't a photograph, just a reproduction of a painted portrait. In the first, the woman was seen smiling and happy, looking healthy and alive. The second showed her containing a much more chilling beauty. Her lips were twisted apart in a smile that revealed vampiric fangs. Her eyes had that same sharp, piercing gaze. There was no doubt about the similarities.

Dean whistled. "Looks like Miss O'Grady has a sister."

"Looks like it." Sam agreed. "Does it say how they killed her?"

Dean read on. "They didn't have to. She showed up to scare, and then vanished. Maybe a fisherman caught her."

"How long ago was this?" Sam asked, looking over into Dean's book. "Eighteen hundreds. Okay. Makes sense."

"How many of them do you think are out there?" Dean asked. "What if Kate has friends? Friends who want to eat us?"

"I doubt it." Sam replied. "I don't think she's let the Cove. She's too riled up to head out to open sea."

"She does her killing and she likes it." Dean commented.

"Maybe we should just leave her be." Sam suggested.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're kidding me. This chick's out there killing people, and you want to protect her?"

"She's killing some terrible people. Maybe she's doing the world a favor."

"Okay, Sam. And what about Lucy?"

Sam couldn't answer that. "You're right."

"I know." Dean grinned. "Comes with being the oldest."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Shh!" The librarian snapped, a finger over her lips. "Quiet!"

Dean flashed her a guilty smile. "Sorry!"

The third book explored 'known facts' about mermaids. Sam discovered they could live as long as three hundred years, they had no soul, and they could heal. "That explains why the bullet you put through her head couldn't kill her." He turned over the page. "The Colt could kill her." He heard Dean scoff, cursing Bella Talbot all over again for stealing it so long ago. The librarian shot him another angry look. Sam ignored Dean, leaving his focus on the written word. If mermaids could heal, what could kill them? He supposed fire _would_ do it, in a pinch, but they'd have to get her out of the water for that.

Dean dove back into his own novel. In his mind, mermaids were supposed to be babes. He was still sore from discovering they could be cold blooded killers. If she had been the sweet kind, he could have charmed the tail off her and then gotten her to stop the murders on top of it. Though, he admitted, if she had been the kind he was thinking of, either the murders never would have happened, or the victims would have died very pleasant deaths. Sexy and dangerous. That was Dean's kind of mermaid.

He was lost in the stories depicted in the book when he realized Sam had left ten minutes ago to go make photocopies. He hadn't realized he was gone until just before he returned. "Got something." Dean grinned. "I think you're going to like it."

"Me too." Sam dumped an arm full of papers onto the table. "Read it and weep."

* * *

_A/N: Ten follows! Wow, that's awesome. Thank you guys! No story of mine has ever had that many follows, at least, not that I can remember. Thank you so much! Again, I'd love to hear your feedback. Love it? Hate it? Anywhere in between? Reviews make my day. But honestly, I'm just grateful people are reading this! Thank you for taking the time to read my little SPN fic. You're awesome! May God bless you, lovely people. :D _

_Love,_

_invisiblemirage_


	12. Hook

The Winchesters waited silently, neither removing their eyes from the water. Night had settled into place long ago, blanketing the Cove in quiet moonlight. The water was calm, smooth as glass, and cold as a dead man's grin. No telltale signs played on the surface to betray Kate O'Grady's whereabouts. Not a ripple eased its way across the empty expanse. Not even a splash broke the silence.

Armed to the teeth, the Winchesters watched the gleaming surface. Their sleek, rented boat bobbed in the water, despite the anchor's best attempts to keep it in place. The silver metal reflected the moon, making the boat shine like a light against the black seawater. The night was still.

Dean lit a match just to watch it burn, dropping it into the water just before the heat seared his fingertips.

"Where are you, Kate O'Grady?" he said, his husky voice hardly above a whisper as he scanned the water. "Come out, come out, where ever you are."

"It's the boat." Sam answered after a moment, swatting away a mosquito. "It has to be. She's never attacked someone who wasn't directly in the water."

"No one that we know of." Dean pointed out. Kate very well could have seduced some poor fisherman, only to drag him to his death in the depths. It would play very well into the mythology of the mermaid. While Kate wasn't precisely one, she shared enough traits to deem a boat seduction viable. He wouldn't put it past her.

Sam turned to Dean. "It's us, Dean. We would know." He was right, of course. Technically speaking, he would know. He had done all the research. He had pulled all the records. He had examined all of the deaths. He had covered every inch of every trace of a proven attack from one Mrs. Kate O'Grady, murdered-wife-turned-mermaid. What he had forgotten, however, was the simple truth that was about to blatantly reveal itself.

There was a first time for everything.

The weather was beginning to turn. Wind kicked up gentle swells of water that rocked the little boat as it floated. The distinct scent of rain carried on the New Hampshire air reached Dean. It didn't deter him for even a moment. A little rain wasn't going to stop him. It would make things more difficult, but he'd fought worse.

The boat lurched to the side. The brothers leapt to their feet, attempting to keep their gear from tumbling over the side. "Was that her?" Sam asked, glancing into the water.

"I don't know."

The faintest glimmer of reflective scales flashed under the surface before vanishing, unseen by both Sam and Dean. A quick thrust of her tail propelled Kate to the other side of the boat. She pressed her hands to the side and shoved.

"Yes. I think so." Sam answered himself through gritted teeth as the boat moved again. He kept a hand on the side, steadying himself.

A chill ran up his spine. The air had grown colder. A drop of rain slapped Sam's cheek, coursing down to his chin. It was followed by a few more. The air held a bite, an electric tension powered by premonition. The Cove itself seemed out to devour them. Trees jutted into the night like jagged teeth, reaching up from a jaw like sandy shore. The water around them was nothing more than a mouth, the sky the head and the Cove the monster in its entirety. Sam could see the raw, ugly truth of this place as it exposed itself, the charade shattered forevermore.

The vision grew bolder. The wind became the hot breath of the creature, the rain turned to blood and saliva dripping from sharp teeth above him. Any second now, Sam was certain he was going to be swallowed. He was convinced-

He jabbed backward with his elbow as he was seized from behind. His bone connected with his target. He felt the sting of a return blow coursing through his back. Sam twisted to face his attacker. He tightened his hand into a fist, throwing a hook punch at-

"Dean!" Sam snapped as Dean pushed thick, noise-cancelling headphones over his ears. "What are you doing?"

"Saving your ass. Again." Dean snapped, letting go of the side of the headphones he was holding. It snapped back into place against Sam's ear. Wincing, he adjusted it as Dean scribbled on a piece of paper.

_She was singing you to sleep._

_**She had me hallucinating. **_Sam wrote back. With the sound of her song blocked, the Cove had returned to normal. It had only taken a blink or two to see things as they really were yet again. Sam hadn't even realized she had been singing. He purposed himself to be even more on his guard.

_Do not take these off. _Dean scrawled, giving Sam a look for good measure. He motioned for him to follow his lead before scratching out one last note. _We look stupid, but it's gonna save us._

Sam nodded.

Kate attacked the boat once again. It tipped dangerously, nearly spilling all of their gear into the sea. Sam knew the net they had brought would be next to no good. She would rip it apart. Her claws alone could tear it to shreds. He didn't need to hear to know Dean was singing the Jaws theme song under his breath as he fought back.

Dean fired into the water, shooting at every splash and every swirl of water. He saw the shine of her scales and unloaded three bullets into that very spot.

Kate rose from the water with an angry hiss. Her fangs gleamed as her piercing eyes cast fiery daggers at Dean. He fired again, aiming for her heart. She was faster than he was.

With a deathly screech, she propelled herself out of the water. Her hair hung over her scarred body, and as she reached for Dean, her claws expanded. She aimed for his neck. Her body arced over the water, her scales dripping, her murderous gaze terrible. He ducked only just in time. As she flew over him, her hand caught his headphones. They vanished with her into the ocean.

Dean didn't have extras. Sam was taking his off to give them to his brother, but Dean refused to let him. The mermaid was filled with rage against Dean, but she had already made two attempts on Sam's life. Dean wasn't about to let her get a third chance.

He braced himself, grabbing his iron knife. The blade was as long as his forearm, and sharpened to perfection. It had teeth of its own, and had saved him from more than a few vampires with its strength. Dean was ready to test it against a mermaid. He checked Sam, glad to see his brother was armed with a knife of his own, and a few other weapons. Good. Those would come in handy.

Kate hadn't returned yet. Dean was determined to lure her into the boat, or to land if at all possible. He needed to stay out of the water as long as he could. "Come on, Katie." He called. "Don't be shy." Once he was in the water, it would be game over. He would be in her territory. He knew he had his own list of faults that she'd be more than willing to end him over. He wasn't going to give her that chance.

The sky opened up. The steady drips of rain turned to a downpour. It began to pool in the bottom of the boat. The drum of the rain hummed against the metal. Dean hardly noticed his clothes getting soaked. He had spotted Kate leering rom just beneath the surface, visible only to just below her eyes. He pointed, without removing his gaze, and Sam crouched next to him, poised to attack at the opportune moment. Her pale skin stuck out as obviously as the boat. She was easy to track.

Her gaze locked on Dean. His green eyes connected with her ice blue ones. The hunter had become the hunted. In that moment, he decided the only thing more chilling than her bloodthirsty gaze was her smile.


End file.
